


The Words You Say

by theianitor



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drunk Sex, Language Barrier, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:23:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theianitor/pseuds/theianitor
Summary: The year is 2003. Fernando is in love with Jenson, but Jenson isn't his soulmate. He has a plan for dealing with it though. Well, more like an idea. A bad idea, sure, but it's the only one he's got.





	The Words You Say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pericardiaca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pericardiaca/gifts).



> Yay, fic-exchange fic! :) Thanks for a very lovely prompt, I really hope you like this! It was fun to go back in time for a while and write some way-back-when Buttonso! <3

\- 2003 -

“Fuck yes...”

It had taken a lot of alcohol and hardly any words to get to this point, to curses panted against his neck, roaming hands making their way under his shirt and open-mouthed kisses, sloppy and wet, and Fernando _still_ knew this was a bad idea, a really bad idea. He pushed it aside, letting his hands do some exploring of their own, grabbing at the waist of the other man’s jeans and pulling him even closer.

He was rewarded with a low moan, almost a growl. The hardness that pressed up against him was unfamiliar but not uncomfortable, rather it was another reward; proof that he was doing things right. His hand slid down, rubbing against the bulge, trying to gauge how big it was. Not that it mattered. Well, maybe a little bit. But he had decided he was going to do this, so no, it didn’t really matter much.

“Llévame a tu habitación,” he panted out. He was ready. It was time. “Jódeme.”

“I have no idea what you just said,” Jenson panted back, barely moving away enough to break the kiss, speaking against his lips. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

Fernando pushed him back, looking into his eyes. It struck him again how pretty he was, how bad an idea this was. His pupils were big and his eyes dark but he was smiling, amused at the language barrier that once again hamstrung them in getting to know each other better. Fernando was not amused, he was dead serious.

“I want you to fuck with me,” he said, sounding the words out as clearly as he could despite being drunk and more turned on than he remembered ever being. Jenson’s smile got even bigger and he kissed him again, tongue pressing against Fernando’s lips and he opened his mouth eagerly, letting him in.

“Now that,” he said between kisses, “I understood. Let’s go.”

 

They ended up in Jenson’s room. It was small, a mirrored version of Fernando’s own and his drunken brain had some trouble with everything being on the opposite side from where it had been when he had left for the bar – never mind that he’d never been in this room before.

Fernando looked at Jenson, seeing him more clearly now that they weren’t in a dim club anymore. He was obviously drunk too but still focused, which was a good sign. He took hold of the bottom of Fernando’s shirt and Fernando helpfully raised his arms so he could pull it up over his head. Jenson looked at him hungrily. Now that they were in private some of the cockiness seemed to have faded away and Fernando was glad.

“Off, take it off,” he said, pulling at Jenson’s shirt. Jenson tore his eyes away from Fernando’s body and looked at his face. For a second, Fernando would have said he looked a bit lost. Then he blinked, and that familiar crooked grin spread across his lips.

“So demanding,” he said. He obliged though, pulling his own shirt off and dropping it on the floor. Fernando licked his lips, eyeing the exposed skin greedily. He had seen him undress before but never in private, never just for him, never when he’d been allowed to look or touch or taste. He had to remind himself why he was doing this. It was a bad idea, but it was the only one he had – he may as well enjoy it.

He reached forward cautiously and placed his hand flat against Jenson’s chest. It felt good, warm and steady, and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it but he thought he could feel Jenson’s heart beating away under there.

“Don’t be shy now, get these off.” Jenson’s voice was a husky whisper and he tugged at Fernando’s pants. Fernando felt surprisingly okay with it. He was willing to let Jenson take control – not just willing but glad to, it would certainly make things easier.

It struck him that Jenson seemed so comfortable. Personally, he felt a bit naked, exposed, but Jenson looked at him like he _wanted_ him and it gave him a confidence he had expected would have come from the alcohol. Between kisses and letting their hands wander, they managed to get undressed and once he was naked, Fernando found it felt perfectly natural to lie back and spread his legs, as clear an invitation as he could possibly give.

“You certainly seem to know what you want,” Jenson said with a smirk. Fernando just nodded, unable to look away as Jenson leaned down and pressed his tongue against his cock, giving it one slow, hard lick. He let his head fall back onto the pillow with a moan.

 

Jenson prepared him, quick and efficient, and Fernando was pretty sure he was about to have a heart attack. His hands were twisted in the sheets and it was the only support he felt he had. He was warm and sweaty, drunkenly dizzy, overexcited and needy and worried. Worried because he knew what was coming as he watched Jenson roll a condom onto his cock with a practiced ease he himself would never have been capable of.

“Slow,” he said, grabbing hold of Jenson’s arm when the Brit leaned over him, kissing him again and anchoring him to himself rather than the bed.

“Slow,” Jenson agreed, sounding a little out of breath. Fernando wanted to say so many things but he settled for just looking Jenson in the eyes, trying to relax. He had tried things before but nothing like this, nothing so warm and close and tender. His mouth fell open because he suddenly realized it also felt quite a bit bigger than he’d expected.

Jenson supported himself on his elbows, his face so close to Fernando’s he was losing focus of it, trying to maintain eye contact.

“Breathe.”

Fernando sucked in a shaky breath, his hands going to Jenson’s shoulders, resisting the urge to reach down and touch himself, touch Jenson, touch _something_.

“Move... please,” he pleaded. He wasn’t in pain, far from it, but he needed more, just a little more, and Jenson slowly moving his hips back and then forward again felt exactly like the _more_ he needed. “Move,” he said again, barely more than a breath.

He kept his grip on Jenson’s shoulders and let him have control, let him set up a rhythm that kept getting just a little faster until he thought he had little lights popping in front of his eyes. He shifted his hips, experimentally meeting the thrusts and crying out at the surprising flash of something utterly wonderful, a brilliant something he needed to have again. It was never going to last; he was too greedy, wanted it too much, it didn’t matter that the idea was so bad when it felt this good.

Jenson’s hand had barely closed around his cock when Fernando arched his back up and let out a hoarse cry. He felt the warm wetness against his skin but it didn’t matter in the slightest, his whole body was shaking and his hands finally fell away from the hold he’d been keeping on Jenson, his arms falling limply to the bed. That didn’t matter either. Jenson was moving, pitching forward hard and Fernando could feel it when he came, hips stuttering and losing rhythm, and he wished for a second they hadn’t been separated by the condom so he could have felt _everything_.

 

“Bloody hell,” Jenson groaned, pulling out and falling to the bed beside Fernando, kissing his arm. “Bloody fucking hell.”

Fernando moved a little bit closer, turning to face him. He looked happy, satisfied, tired, pretty. Fernando touched his face. This had been a really bad idea. He felt really good, a little tender, a little sore, but so good. Accomplished. But this had been a really bad idea.

“I’m just going to...” Jenson waved a hand over himself with a tired smile. “You can stay, if you want..?” He kissed Fernando once, a small kiss, almost tender, before he got up and went to the bathroom. Fernando turned so he was on his back again, looking at the ceiling. He could leave. He _should_ leave.

When Jenson came back and lay down, Fernando got up.

“Are you..?” Jenson asked.

“Bathroom,” he replied, avoiding the mirror while he washed his face and wiped himself off. He went back to bed and let himself fall asleep in the other man’s arms. The next morning, he left before Jenson woke up.

 

\--

 

“I’ve no idea what the hell you were even thinking mate,” Mark said, shaking his head in disbelief. “ _Were_ you thinking?”

“Yes,” Fernando said, crossing his arms over his chest and pointedly not looking at his friend.

“You know what Flavio has to say about him,” Mark muttered. “I’m pretty sure you weren’t thinking about that at the time...”

“Do you often think about Flavio in bed?” Fernando shot back. He was a little angry, but when Mark started chuckling the tension broke.

“Was stupid,” he admitted when they had stopped laughing.

“Too right it was. Why...” Mark stopped talking, searching for the right question. “Just why?”

“Is not... is not my... eh... soul?” he mimed writing on his arm. Mark’s eyebrows shot up.

“Hang on mate,” he said incredulously. “Hang on, explain... I mean I must be misunderstanding something here so explain slowly... because you can’t possibly have fucked _the_ Jenson Button because he _isn’t_ your soulmate?”

Fernando wanted to protest. It sounded stupid when he said it like that! There was logic behind it, he’d had a plan. Well, an idea. Admittedly not a very good idea, but a logical one. He just didn’t know how to explain all this to Mark.

“Is not my soulmate,” Fernando said, pretending to write on his arm again out of habit. “But I like, very much.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you perving on him,” Mark said, starting to laugh again when Fernando looked offended.

“I think, if I... if we...”

“... fuck,” Mark said helpfully.

“Then I can forget,” Fernando said, looking at the floor. Mark may be crude in the way he expressed it, but he was right. Fernando had been hung up on Jenson for a long time, but he knew it wasn’t meant to be. He just couldn’t set it aside and move on.

“Why’d you need to forget about it?” Mark asked, looking confused. “You ended up in bed mate, I’m pretty sure that means he likes you at least a bit.”

“Is not my soulmate,” Fernando said again, more slowly.

“How’d you know?”

Fernando struck his hands out, slightly exasperated. How did he know? Wasn’t it obvious?

“We talk all of the time, before. We have no mark.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t just... happen.”

“What?” Fernando was sure Mark had misunderstood. Of course soulmarks just happened, that was how it worked. He had seen his parents’ marks enough times to know; the first thing you said to your soulmate would burn itself onto your body, leaving a black tattoo with those words etched into your skin forever. His mother had tiny, blocky letters on the inside of her left bicep, spelling out a compliment of her hair. His father had slender, decorative letters, which in beautiful joint-up writing expressed that if he wanted to talk he could come up with a better line.

“It’s the first thing after the whole...” Mark fluttered his fingers like a magician performing a trick, his roll of the eyes letting Fernando know exactly what he thought of this stuff. “You know. When the bonding-thing has started.”

“But my mother and father...”

“Look, I don’t know for sure mate, nobody does,” Mark interrupted, “but my folks had known each other a good long time before their marks came in, and mum always says she’s real happy it’s not the first thing they ever said to each other.”

“Is... not the first..?” Fernando was confused.

“No,” Mark said, smiling kindly at him. “And don’t believe that crock about it always ending up on the arms either. I have an uncle who got his on his backside.” He chuckled.

Fernando sighed. It was good to learn more about it, where he came from it wasn’t usually discussed so freely, it was private, a little magical, something soulmates kept between them. Mark didn’t seem to have a problem with talking about it though. Still, it didn’t help much. Jenson wasn’t his soulmate, but he was head over heels in love with him.

 

\--

 

“I can’t believe you got marked!” DC was howling with laughter and wiping his eyes. He took a steadying breath to calm himself, but the moment he caught sight of Jenson’s face he burst out laughing again.

Jenson was trying to twist his arm so he could see the inside of his left bicep. A black blot had appeared and over the past three weeks it had first grown bigger and clearer, and then it had started shrinking down. The edges were beginning to look like letters. It was undoubtedly a soulmate mark, only he had no idea what it said. He had been trying to make sense of it, pulling and pinching at the skin so much it had gotten red. Finally he had decided he had to talk to someone about it.

“It’s not funny,” he sighed, pulling the sleeve of his shirt back down. At least it was easy to cover.

“It bloody well is!” David laughed. He settled down a little when Jenson glared at him. “Look, I’m sorry, it’s just... it’s _you_ , and you don’t even know who it is. It is a little funny.”

When Jenson didn’t say anything, David reached for his arm.

“Alright, let me see. There must be something legible in there.”

Jenson reluctantly pulled his sleeve up again, revealing the uneven blot. The bottom of it had settled into shapes that were definitely letters; the top was still a mess of lines and shapes, completely unreadable. DC squinted at it and tilted his head to the side.

“That sort of looks like a J,” he said thoughtfully, pointing to a shape on the left side of the black squiggles. “If you’re lucky it’ll be your own name.” He tilted his head to the other side. “Are you sure this is even in English?”

“I...” Jenson was about to tell him off again. He didn’t know anything about it; he didn’t have a clue who might have said something that would have triggered the soulmate mark with him. But he had to stop talking because he was suddenly reminded of something, of someone. Someone who seemed to have been avoiding him very carefully lately. Someone who hadn’t said anything at all to him over the past few weeks.

“You _do_ have an idea!” David said excitedly. “There’s some exotic beauty that’s finally captured the heart of young Playboy Button...”

“I... no,” Jenson said, shaking his head. He lowered his arm and when he rolled his sleeve down this time he touched the mark carefully.

“Come on,” DC wheedled, “I can tell you’re lying, you’ve got someone in mind. Who?”

“It’s... nobody, it’s nothing. I don’t know who it is,” Jenson said. “Might be,” he corrected.

“Fine, you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.” David still sounded amused. “But when you sort this all out, just remember who your friends are.”

“What?”

“Your little black book,” David said, pointing to himself. “It’ll need a good home.” In spite of the situation and how confused he was feeling, Jenson laughed.

 

\--

 

Fernando had checked everywhere. What Mark had said had really struck a chord with him; he didn’t know enough about soulmarks to be sure about _anything_. With some trepidation, he had even wiped steam off the bathroom mirror and checked his ass. Maybe Mark had been joking about that one though. Still, he had checked everywhere. There wasn’t a trace of a mark on him. Not small, not faded, not anything, not anywhere.

Except... suddenly, there was. Faded, slanted writing had appeared on his left arm, below the crook of his elbow. He had noticed it in the morning, so it must have started appearing while he was asleep. Since he had first seen it he could have sworn it had gotten darker every time he looked. The words had been decipherable almost from the beginning despite being faded and blurry.

“So demanding.”

He didn’t like it. The letters were in a place that couldn’t so easily be hidden, and they were the right way up. If he was just standing around, anyone close enough would be able to read them easily. Also, the words weren’t the most flattering he could think of to have on his skin. He didn’t want to like it. Still, he couldn’t help softly running his fingers over the mark and smiling.

Fernando was careful to wear sleeves long enough to cover the mark. He had seen what happened when the press got whiff of a mark. His own mark, he figured, could at least pass for normal conversation. Nobody would ever have to know the circumstances under which Jenson had said he was “so demanding”.

 

\--

 

Fernando could tell something was going on as soon as he sat down. David was never quiet, not this quiet, not unless he was gearing up for something special. The others discussed the usual rumors: which teams looked good, who looked bad, what teams were doing what. He couldn’t exactly ask anyone if they had noticed a mark on Jenson.

“So...” David said when there was a lull in the conversation, “love is in the air.”

He left the statement hanging, obviously waiting for someone to ask, for maximum impact. Kimi, sitting beside him, had long-since gotten both used to and tired of the gossiping. He slumped forward in his seat and rested his head on his arms, for all the world taking a nap against the table.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Justin finally said. “Who got marked?”

Fernando saw a few of the others glancing over, interested, but not wanting to look too eager. A marking was always good gossip-material; he could only imagine what it had been like back when Michael got his. Fernando tried to not look too interested too, but it certainly wasn’t out of fear of being labeled a gossip.

“I was merely making an observation,” David said with a superior smile. “Even if I knew, I couldn’t betray a confidence like that...”

Suddenly Fernando was completely sure that he was talking about Jenson. They were friends. If Jenson had spoken to anyone in the paddock in confidence... he stood up so suddenly even Kimi looked up.

“Are you leaving?” Jarno asked, eyeing Fernando with some suspicion. Fernando tried to think of something to say back, but the longer he waited the more eyes there were on him, and the more difficult it got to think. He settled for nodding at Jarno before leaving. Behind him he heard David’s voice saying something, and then several people laughing.

 

He tried to think of what to say while he walked through the paddock. He wasn’t sure how to bring the subject up – it was kind of a big deal. Also, his bad idea now seemed even worse, because if he had known he definitely would have waited. He shook his head. What Jenson must think of him, good grief.

“Fernando!”

He spun around when he heard the familiar voice. Jenson was hurrying towards him, but seemed unsure of what to do once he got closer.

“So, eh...” He awkwardly stroked Fernando’s arm.

Over Jenson’s shoulder Fernando could see Mark and David, strolling leisurely and talking about something. They hadn’t seen them yet.

“We talk later?” he rushed out.

“Eh, sure?” Jenson seemed a little surprised. He looked over his shoulder and seemed to realize what Fernando was seeing. “I’m in...” he felt through his pockets. “Here.” He handed over his keycard, touched Fernando’s arm again, and walked away. Fernando only just had the presence of mind to put the keycard away before the other two reached him.

 

\--

 

Fernando wiped his palms against his pants before knocking on the door. He was nervous. He was too nervous. He had just remembered the keycard in his pocket when Jenson opened the door. As soon as he saw that it was Fernando, he seemed to relax a little.

“Sorry, I just thought it was someone else,” he said, holding the door open so Fernando could step inside. “I’m... a little nervous.”

Fernando nodded. He found a tiny sliver of comfort in Jenson being nervous too.

“So...” Jenson said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and inviting him to do the same, “can I see it?”

“Is... I can see yours first?”

“Sure,” he said, hesitating. “It’s not very clear. It’s sort of coming in but I can’t read it.”

He rolled up his sleeve and Fernando realized he was holding his breath. When the whole mark was uncovered, Jenson leaned in a little, holding his arm out.

“There it is.”

Without giving it much thought, Fernando reached out and touched the soulmate mark. It looked messy, lines crossing over each other and some of it looked like letters, but they were pressed so close together it was impossible to make out any words. Or... he stared.

“What?” Jenson asked, looking at his mark too. “Do you know what it says?”

“Is... not possible,” Fernando said. “Oh no...”

“What?” Jenson asked again. “Is it in Spanish? You’re gonna have to teach me how to say it, you know.”

Fernando wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Why these were the words that had gotten inked into Jenson’s skin, he’d never know. He certainly remembered saying them, but... this was the kind of mark that would need to be covered. He stroked his finger against the jumble of letters; now that he knew what to look for, it was all the more clear.

“Llévame,” he pointed out, “a tu habitación.”

“What does that mean?”

“Take... eh...” he felt embarrassed. It was one thing to say it under the influence of alcohol, lust, and bad ideas. It was something completely different to say it completely sober, face to face, in the stark light of day.

“Take me to the bedroom,” he said in a single breath. Jenson looked from him to the soulmark like the words would change and become something he could understand. Fernando’s cheeks felt very hot.

“And that part?” Jenson pointed to the word on the bottom, the clearest of all of them. “Jode me?”

“Jódeme,” Fernando said, keeping his eyes closed. “It means to fuck me.”

“To... to fuck you?”

“It means I want you to... fuck... me,” he couldn’t look up. It was probably the most embarrassing thing he had ever experienced. He heard a sudden snort.

“That’s... something,” Jenson said. He sounded like he was about to start laughing at any moment.

“Is horrible!”

Now Jenson actually did burst out laughing. He calmed down quickly when he saw that Fernando apparently didn’t find it as funny as he did.

“I’m sorry, but it _is_ funny...”

“Is horrible,” Fernando repeated.

“Let’s see yours then,” Jenson encouraged. Fernando pulled his sleeve up and held out his arm.

“Well,” Jenson said, considering the two words which were clearly visible now, no longer blurry or faded, “it’s appropriate.”

“Appropriate?!”

“You can be a little demanding.” He was still smiling and put his hand softly on top of Fernando’s. Fernando had been preparing to say something, but lost himself at the touch. He wasn’t sure if it was the bond or if it was supposed to feel so... tingly.

“Listen, I don’t know... how this stuff works,” Jenson said after a little while. “I told mum and dad.”

“Have told my parents also.”

“They were happy,” Jenson said, and Fernando nodded. His parents hadn’t cared that he didn’t want to tell them who it was. Soulmate marks didn’t lie.

“My mother said to be slow,” Fernando said. It was the one thing she had repeated over the course of their conversation, reminding her son to not rush, take his time. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her that rushing was what had gotten him here in the first place.

“Definitely,” Jenson agreed. He leaned in a little closer, changed his mind and leaned back, and smiled awkwardly.

“Eh... can I kiss you?”

Fernando nodded. He met him halfway and the first touch of lips on lips was tentative, careful, a far cry from their first night spent together. Fernando was pretty sure he was getting goosebumps; there was something vastly different about this, something not like other kisses. He pulled back, feeling light-headed. Looking up he saw Jenson was smiling, but his eyes were closed. He took the opportunity to kiss him again, more forcefully this time. He wanted more.

“Didn’t we just agree to take it slow?” Jenson said, nipping playfully at Fernando’s lip.

“Yes, yes,” he agreed, taking a steadying breath.

They both sat back, still holding hands.

“Are... are you staying? Tonight?” Jenson asked, and Fernando was a little surprised at how small he sounded.

“If you want,” he said, not even having to think it over.

“Just... don’t leave. In the morning. Don’t leave.”

Fernando nodded. He wasn’t going anywhere.

 

\--

 

\- 2012 -

 

Fernando’s back hit the wall and he was tempted to jump up and wrap his legs around the other man. There had been too much travelling, too much to do lately, it had been too long. They had barely made it through the door before they started tearing off their clothes. Being together was always good, but being together in the comfort of their own home, especially when it meant the break was starting, was something really extraordinary.

“Want you so much,” Jenson said, pressing himself against his husband and ravenously attacking his mouth with his tongue. “Want you so fucking much.”

Fernando moaned, letting his hand slide down over smooth, naked skin. He knew this body well, knew how to make the owner moan and swear and beg. He pushed him back a little and looked at him hungrily. Jenson was smirking at him; he liked it when they could let go and be themselves.

“Jódeme,” he said, the pronunciation still very far from perfect.

Fernando nodded at the bed. Jenson didn’t break eye contact, backing up against the bed and sitting down. He leaned back a little, still smiling.

Fernando strolled over, taking his time because he knew Jenson liked to watch, liked to see him. When he was close enough, he gave Jenson’s shoulders a push, making him fall back. He straddled him and pushed his hips down, rubbing against him, tempting and good but nowhere near enough. Leaning down he slid his hands up over Jenson’s arms, and he swore he could feel a spark under his palm when he stroked the mark.

“Fuck yes...”

“You are going to be good, no?” he teased Jenson’s lips with the tip of his tongue, holding his wrists down against the bed. Jenson chased his mouth with his own and bucked his hips up in an attempt to get more friction, more of Fernando, just _more_.

“Come on,” he whined. “Nando...”

“You are going to be good, and you are going to shut up, and you are going to satisfy me?” He moved his hips, very close but still very much too far away.

When he came close enough to kiss him again, Jenson’s teeth caught his bottom lip and held it firmly, a clear warning to not push it too far. When he let go they were both panting hard, grinning at each other; the time for teasing was definitely over.

“So demanding,” Jenson said. When it came to Fernando’s demands though, he was more than willing to give in.

 

\- The End -

**Author's Note:**

> All in good fun, as per usual! :)  
> Thanks for the read! <3


End file.
